


I wanna see you

by youth_D



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Abuse, Age Difference, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-13 07:59:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11180451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youth_D/pseuds/youth_D
Summary: Mickey wasn't under any illusion that Ian loved him or was gonna ditch his guy for him, in fact, if Ian ever gave him that impression, Mickey would probably be compelled to beat him down.





	1. Chapter 1

He'd already done everything his dad needed for the day--went on a quick run, which was a solo trip, and fucked around with some other stuff. The dude his dad dealt H with was a secret fag and really had taken a liking to Mickey, so when the time came and business was to be had, no one questioned it when Mickey more than willingly took one for the team. As long as they weren't bothered and mickey wasn't dipping his fingers into the family funds, it wasn’t a problem. He even got to bring his old man back something good most of the time. 

 

And that was a damn blessing in disguise, putting Terry in a good mood in a snap. So if the flip side to that was an aching jaw, then you better believe Mickey didn't fuckin complain.

 

All of these events brought him back to where he was now. On his bed, running a hand over his chest and wondering where he put his fucking cell phone. Thinking back to earlier when his mouth had been stretched and full of cock was making his dick twitch in his shorts and he was in the mood to hit up a certain redhead. 

 

 If only,  _fuck_

 

He'd jacked the phone when he was at this Puerto Rican chick’s house. He thinks her name was Bianca. She was a friend of his sister’s, until Mickey started fucking her. Mandy was bitching to him about eyeliner and pink eye and when he tuned back in, she’d given pretty descriptive details concerning the broad’s house, so he filed the information away and paid Miss B a visit. He figured the fact that he was her best friend's brother would be as good of an in as any. Needless to say, Mandy wasn’t too happy with the situation.

 

He was only screwing around with the girl to keep up with his fucking brothers. The ol’ Milkovich clan were known for hanging around the jankiest chicks. They were fucking dogs, even by Southside standards, so he had a reputation to keep up with.

 

Last week he watched dad and his older brothers beat the living hell outta this guy because there was a rumor goin around that he fucked a tranny prostitute. Mickey knew he had to keep his own shit under lock and key, had known that from a young age. He couldn't indulge in the faggy 'let's find myself' reflective bullshit, but so what?

 

He didn't care. He didn't want that shit anyway. What he did care about was his life, believe it or not. And if he came across the opportunity to smash stray dick, who could blame him if he took it? He wasn't crying about being a homo in his spare time. It was the way it was, whatever. 

 

He reached between the mattress and headboard, feeling around. It took a minute before he found the little phone jammed there.

 

On the menu this week was a ginger named Ian Gallagher. He was the hottest piece of ass that Mickey had landed thus far, and if he were the type to be insecure, he would, because the guy had the type of dick people wrote sonnets about.

 

Red was a whole five years older than him and worked as a substitute teacher over in Oak Park. Mickey remembered all of those Gallagher's running around when he was younger, causing all kinds of fucking mayhem. They all fled New City, though, including Ian. When that drunk’s liver failed, they all just took off. He’d hear his dad talk about how they were nothing but Irish scum, how pathetic Frank Gallagher was. About the queer son he was raising.

 

He asked awhile back why Ian decided to move back to a place so close to home, but it seemed like a touchy subject, so he left it.

 

Mickey wasn't put out by the fact that he had to take a half hour ride on the Blue line for a booty call. He was more grateful than anything else. It was a nice change of pace, to stay somewhere else away from all the obligation and responsibility bullshit. He was also a firm believer In not shitting where he ate, and it was just nice to sleep somewhere with an actual fucking central a/c unit.

 

He pulled up their last message thread and fired off a text, propping his head up on his arm. The response was almost immediate.

 

_If you wanna fuck you gotta come by after 11_

 

Mickey snorted, biting into his bottom lip, and sent the ok. Ian had a boyfriend, a serious one, and he was usually over at Ian's most of the time. Looks like the fag was finally headed home for once.

 

It had been weeks since Mickey'd been able to crash, which was aggravating to say the least, but Mickey never got involved with _that_ whole situation.

 

If Ian wanted a little piece on the side, who was Mickey to question his morals? He was a fucking Milkovich, he doubted he had a right to say shit about it.

 

And Mickey wasn't under any illusion that Ian loved him or was gonna ditch his guy for him, in fact, if Ian ever gave him that impression, Mickey would probably be compelled to beat him down. No fucking way was he gonna let someone get attached to him like that. Feelings were messy and made people unpredictable and stupid, not to mention the fact that Terry would bury him in the fucking ground if he ever got a whiff of something like that going on.

 

Yes, he fucked dudes, but there was nothing gayer than having feelings for 'em. Nuff said.

 

The time read 10:20 pm, so he rolled out of bed and zipped up a brown hoodie over his naked chest. He figured he could hang out a while before makin his way over to Gallagher's. After shoving on some sneakers, he made his way out, stopping by the couch where Mandy was texting to ruffle her hair.

 

"Assface" she grumbled, waving him off.

 

"Bitch" he called back, and slammed the door shut.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Fuck, man, this is some good shit." Ronnie huffed, passing the blunt back over to Mickey. Mickey nodded, taking a long hit and grinning lazily. he'd gotten some new shit from Iggy earlier that day, said he wanted it tried out before he sold it to some of the low levels for further distribution.

 

"Yo, hand that over! You're camping on that shit."

 

Mickey sputtered a little after his second toke, reaching across to let Dante have a shot. He had hitched it a few blocks over to his bud Ronnie's house so they could chill out and smoke under the L.

 

While the other boys played puff, puff, pass, Mickey leaned back in his chair. The sky was dark and from what he could see from under the tracks, it was speckled with stars and there was a full moon out, too. Just fucking beautiful. He normally didn't notice shit like that, but his high was kicking in, making his brain all fuzzy and mellowing him the fuck out.

 

He was brought out of his reverie by a hard ass kick to the shin, coming from the right. "Ow, what the fuck?!" Mickey hissed, leaning over to inspect his leg. "Man, you're spaced the fuck out. I've been talking to you for, like, the past five minutes." Ronnie chuckled, rubbing his nose with the sleeve of his coat. "Where the fuck you at? Thinkin 'bout that Mexican bitch's pussy already?" Mickey grimaced, crossing his leg over the other, safely tucked away from the shithead next to him.

 

"Fuck you." Mickey spat, ignoring the tittering assholes surrounding him. "She's Puerto Rican." Ronnie just laughed harder.

 

This brunette chick, Kelly, sitting on the dudes lap to his left drunkenly reached over to grab onto his shoulder. "Aw, it's ok, Ronnie just has a little crush on our boy here!" she cooed, running her other hand through his hair, scratching a little behind his ear. Ronnie spread out in his seat, giving the girl the finger with both hands. "Oh, get the fuck outta here."

 

Mickey cracked a smile at the rising argument, eyes closing as he zoned out focusing on the girls hand in his hair. She was really working him, twisting strands of his hair in this figure eight pattern, then scratching her nails down and repeating the motion over. He almost would have fucking fell asleep if it wasn't for her shaking him awake.

 

"Hey, honey," she said, speaking in almost a tender voice. "I've got to get going." He jerked up, rubbing roughly at his eyes. "Me and Joey are gonna go back to my place for awhile." she whispered, giggling when the guy she was sitting on grabbed at her side. 

 

Mickey made a sound of acknowledgment and pulled himself up, stumbling off and side stepping a couple of drunks who had fallen asleep on the ground. Digging around in his pocket for his phone, he saw the time was 11:15.

 

Alright, okay. Time to head out. He nodded to himself as he crossed over to a side street, tryna shake off the nerves. His damn high was wearing off and he was thirsty as all hell. He hadn't actually seen Ian face to face since his boyfriend apparently decided to move the fuck in, so excuse him if he was a little jumpy.

 

He checked the time again and noticed he'd have to wait a couple minutes before the bus came so he swung by a convenience store and bought a Gatorade, yes bought, with the twenty he found in the second hand basketball shorts he was wearing. They were Colin's, but the bitch owed him anyway so he didn't think much of it as he went back around the aisle and picked up a Kind bar. He knew Ian liked those.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Forty minutes later and Mickey was making his way into Ian's apartment complex, sliding in behind the old guy who was just leaving.The ride up in the elevator felt like it took a fucking eternity and when he finally hit the sixth floor he walked out slowly into the hall. No need to rush, he reasoned with himself as he made his way over to the door at the end. Before knocking, he hesitated and ran his fingers through his hair a couple times, then straightened out his clothes, pulling the zipper on his jacket down a little to flash his collarbones. Gotta play your strengths, right?

 

Mickey raised his fist to bang on the door, then glanced down and saw that one of his shoes were untied. So yes, he had to fucking tie it, what kind of fuckin' animal doesn't tie their shoes? As he finished the third knot and was about to stand up the goddamn door opened.

 

The goddamn door opened and this big, ripped black guy loomed over him.

 

They blinked at each other for a second before Mickey remembered to stand up.

 

"Uh-" He said, right at the same time he saw Ian come around the corner from inside, curse under his breath, and call out, "That's my cousin."

 

The guys eyes softened and sparked with a semblance of recognition. "Ah," he went, holding out a giant hand to Mickey. "You must be Patrick." His voice was smooth and just a touch condescending as he scanned the younger boy up and down. Mickey didn't take it.

 

Ian slapped an arm around the man, his boyfriend's, shoulder, not looking uncomfortable at all as he smiled between the two.

 

"Nope, different cousin."

 

The guy nodded understandably and Mickey was about to crawl out of his fucking skin. He kind of wanted to say something loud and obscene that would definitely get his ass kicked, but he knew Ian would drop him so fuckin' quick, so he kept quiet. He had yet to meet anyone that could fuck like Ian could so 'til then, he was gonna behave.

 

Mickey readjusted his stance and tilted his chin up at them as way of greeting. "'Sup"

 

The guy chuckled and before he could say anything else, Ian interrupted. "Caleb, this is my cousin, Mickey. Mickey, my boyfriend, Caleb." Mickey rolled his eyes; Ian raised an eyebrow and continued. "Mickey just came over to work on a project for English class that I thought I could help him out on. Due date's real soon, so we gotta cram in as much work as we can tonight. It's the only time I'm free."

 

Caleb passed them both a sympathetic look. "I always hated deadlines in school, especially college. It was a nightmare." 

 

Ian laughed and agreed, glaring at Mickey when he started to opened his mouth. "Thanks for the encouraging words, shaft " Mickey deadpanned. "But me an Ian got a long night 'head of us. You mind lettin' us get to work?" 

 

Caleb looked at a loss for a moment, then Ian pulled Mickey in by his sleeve, making an apologetic face toward the other man as he ushered him inside. "Just come in, Mick, c'mon, go get set up in the living room."

 

Then in a lower voice, lips pressed subtly to the brunets temple, "And grab the lube from the side table." He tightened his grip around Mickey's wrist before leaving to see Caleb out. The brunet bit his lip, fighting a grin.

 

 Man, tonight was gonna be fun.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Mickey stopped by the couch, digging around in the drawer of the wooden table beside it for a second before he continued on his way to where he knew Ian's bedroom was. He unzipped his jacket and shrugged it off, throwing it to the side before kneeing his way onto the bed.

 

"Well you're sure makin' yourself at home, huh?" Ian commented from the doorway.

 

Mickey made a face, turning to drop down on his ass. "Oh, you two finally done sucking each other off?" He gestured between the redhead and into the hall. Ian cracked a grin, eyes cast downward as he stepped closer. "No," He said, hands resting on the footboard. "Just wanna suck you off."

 

Mickey slid back to rest on his elbows, eyebrows raised. "Oh yeah?" Ian nodded. "You usually want to blow your cousins, Gallagher?" Ian laughed, leaning forward. "Only the pretty ones." He said. Mickey smiled at that, tonguing the inside of his cheek and shaking his head. "You're a sick man." 

 

The redhead grabbed one of Mickey's ankles, thumbing over the bone.

 

"Ian," He said. 

 

Ian glanced down at him, expression still amused as ever as he began untying the laces on one of Mickey's Nikes. "Not planning on goin' any faster, are ya?" The brunet complained. "How 'bout dropping the stupid silent mime shit you're doing? It's freaking me out." Ian's smirk widened as he started on the other shoe. After a minute, he pulled it off, throwing it in the vicinity of Mickey's jacket, and doing the same to the other.

 

The redhead struggled with the laces, tugging roughly. "Why the hell are your laces tied three goddamn times? Fucking ridiculous" He said. Mickey snickered at the ceiling. "Oh, wanna know what's ridiculous?" Ian furrowed his brow in mock interest. "Strawberry scented fucking lube." Mickey tossed the bottle he was holding in Ian's direction.

 

"And if you lived in my neighborhood, you'd better excercise every precaution you can to make sure your shoes stay on your feet."

 

Ian rolled his eyes. "You're an ass, you know that?" He said as he leaned up to grab the back of Mickey's knees. Mickey let out a surprised yelp as he pulled him down the bed until his legs dangled off the edge.

 

"The fuck?!"

 

Ian got down on his knees so he was eyelevel with Mickey's crotch. "Are you going to keep bitchin' at me or are you gonna help get these off?" He questioned, tugging lightly at the hem of Mickey's shorts. Mickey exhaled heavily, holding eye contact with the redhead as he shifted his hips up so Ian could drag the shorts and his boxers down over his thighs. Ian moved further in between Mickey's legs, one hand gripping under his ass. Mickey groaned, breaking eye contact. "Fucking get on with it," He grunted. Ian was silent as he bent down to kiss from Mickey's navel to his hip, going so slow. God, too slow. The fuck was his deal? "Ian, seriously, you're pissing me-"

 

Ian straightened up to look at the boy. "Shut the fuck up, Mickey."

 

Mickey bit his lip. Shit.

 

The redhead went back to kissing down Mickey's thigh, avoiding his dick completely. He grabbed the inside of Mickey's knee with his free hand, pushing his legs further apart. Mickey sighed, eyes closing. He felt overwhelmed, but in a good way. Like if he were high or something. Heartbeat slow, but steady. Fingers twisting in the sheets by his head as Ian finally, _finally_ , licked up his shaft, lips wrapping around the head as he went down.

 

Mickey whimpered, hips bucking up. "S-Shit," He panted as Ian laid an arm heavily over his waist, keeping him immobile. "Sorry, I just-"

 

 Ian pulled back up, shushing him. "It's fine, Mick, you're doing good." He said in a rough voice. He moved the hand he had gripping Mickey's thigh up to his ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he swallowed down his dick again. Mickey moaned lowly, arching up as much as he could under Ian's arm. "Fuck, Ian, fuck."

 

Ian hummed around him, really getting into it as spit dribbled down his chin, making everything slicker and easier to move. He sucked harder, scraping his teeth lightly down the side and Mickey almost choked trying to gulp down as much air as he could. "Oh my god, oh my god,"

 

On his way back up, he gave one last lick to the head before replacing his mouth with his hand, wrist twisting in that way he fucking knew Mickey liked.

 

"I want you to come, okay?" Ian said, jacking the brunet's dick slower than before to make sure he had his full attention. "I want you to come for me, Mickey."

 

Mickey groaned, balls drawing up so tight that he needed it. He fucking needed it so bad it hurt. "Yeah.." He moaned, eyes shut tight. "I wanna, Ian, please," Ian smiled, looking downright animalistic as he moved his hand faster, busying himself with sucking a fat hickey on the side of the younger boy's hip.

 

"C'mon Mick, I know you can do it," He muttered, licking softly over the bruise. "C'mon, baby.." 

 

Mickey whined, hand shooting up to tangle in his own hair. He could feel it building up, curling in the pit of his gut. He was so fucking close, he could taste it. He just needed something else to get him over. This hands shit wasn't cutting it.

 

"Ian, please, can you-"

 

Ian brought his head up. "What do you need, Mick." He kept his hand going at a maddening pace, making it damn near impossible for him to speak. Ian swiped his thumb over the head, smearing precum.

 

"Mickey?" Ian prompted.

 

Fuck, okay.

 

"Can you, with your mouth," Mickey stuttered. Ian smirked, raising an eyebrow. "You want my mouth again?" Mickey squeezed his eyes shut, moaning as the redhead quickened his pace with his hand. "Huh?" He teased, giving a long lick over the head again, chuckling when the boy cried out. "You're gonna need to give me more than that, Mick." He said. "You want my mouth where?"

 

Mickey felt on the verge of tears. This jackass thought he was so funny, didn't he?

 

"I wanna give it to you so bad, you just gotta tell me how." He said, feigning innocence.

 

Mickey let out an exasperated breath. "suck my fucking dick." 

 

Ian smiled, rolling his shoulders back and settling both hands around on Mickey's ass. "That's all I wanted to hear, babe."  

 

Mickey snorted weakly. "Don't fucking call-" 

 

And then Ian went down. He deep throated Mickey's dick, nose brushing pubic hair, saliva sliding down all over. He gripped Mickey's ass hard, pushing the boys hips up which probably meant he wanted Mickey to fuck his mouth, but there was no time. Mickey was already coming, both hands buried in the redhead's hair, back arched up, body taunt and trembling. It was one of those orgasms that hit you so hard you couldn't even make a fucking sound. He just whimpered softly.

 

 After making sure he was done, Ian pulled off, breathing heavily, eyes dilated. Mickey had his eyes closed, face and chest flushed. "You alright, tough guy?" Ian asked, moving to stand. Mickey nodded after a second, licking his lips. "Yeah," 

 

Ian nodded back distractedly, grabbing himself through his jeans as his eyes raked down Mickey's body. "Think you could go again?"

 

Mickey chuckled, stretching out his arms and resting them behind his head. "You'll have to give me a minute." 

 

Ian groaned at the ceiling. "Mickey," He whined, leaning down over the brunet. "Please, I need you." Mickey bit his lip.

 

"You need me?"

 

The redhead climbed on the bed beside him, toeing his shoes off. "I fuckin' need ya, Mickey."

 

Mickey pretended to think for a second before rolling over and helping pull the polo over Ian's head as he started on the jeans, ripping off the belt and shoving down the zipper.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey blew out a cloud of smoke, reaching over to ash out his cigarette on the nightstand. He was laid out on the bed with Ian resting his head on his stomach and his fingers running through the redhead's hair. Mickey passed the cigarette back over to Ian with his other hand, turning his head to squint at the clock. It read 2:15 a.m.

 

"Damn, that was good." Ian breathed out, smoke drifting up. He stretched his legs out, passing the cig back over his head. Mickey hummed under his breath, agreeing silently. "You mind if I stay over?" He asked. The redhead rolled over, snuggling his face into the teen's stomach, arms wrapping around his waist. "Yeah, whatever." Ian muttered, yawning. Mickey nodded at the ceiling, sucking in a lungful as the redhead drifted off.

 

It was a good night, but he'd have to be out before the sun came up in a couple hours. His dad was adamant about him going on the Indiana run with his brothers. Apparently it was important or some shit and he needed to be there to negotiate a little and make sure nothing was fucked. He wasn't too pissed about it, but he'd also be closed up in that fucking Riviera with his brothers. No showers, no nothing, just ridin' it rough and dirty for the next week. And those assholes always got on his nerves no matter what. 

 

He looked down at Ian's sleeping face, noting the man's freckles and the way his nose twitched in his sleep. 

 

He reached over again and put his cig out, pulling the sheets up to his chin and closing his eyes. He needed to get as much fuckin' sleep as he could before sunrise.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Ian rolled over, stretching an arm above his head and yawning.

 

God. He was tired.

 

His internal clock usually woke him up a few minutes before his alarm went off, so he laid there drifting between sleep and consciousness. After awhile, the sheets on his other side started to shift. He groaned, stretching out again and glancing over at the teenager curled up on the other side of the bed, dead asleep.

 

The kid was facing away from him, so Ian could only see the pale stretch of his back, light freckles peppering the skin around his shoulders and neck. The redhead scooted closer, throwing an arm over the boy's waist as he settled back down.

 

Ian hated to admit it, but he missed the little fucker.  

 

Mickey snuffled against the pillow, rolling onto his front. "What times' it?" He grumbled. Ian gave a lopsided grin, fitting himself back against Mickey's side. "6:30, sleepin' beauty."

 

Mickey mumbled something resembling the word 'fuck', before falling silent again. Ian grinned. He closed his eyes and was drifting into that nice, fuzzy in between state, about to go under again, when the brunet jumped up.

 

"Fuck!" He said, with more heat. 

 

"What the fuck, Mickey?" 

 

Mickey rolled his eyes at the redhead, hurriedly grabbing his clothes and pulling them on. Ian groaned, staring up at the ceiling before running a hand through his hair in frustration as he realized he wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon. He pulled himself up to sit against the headboard. Mickey already had his boxers and shorts on, in the process of shoving his AF1's on his feet.

 

"Mickey," Ian stressed again.

 

"Fucking what?!" Mickey snapped, jumping up again to search for his jacket. "What the hell are you doing?" Ian said, spacing out the words slowly as if he were talking to a child. Mickey stopped short, exasperated.

 

He looked at the redhead, naked except for the sheets covering his junk, looking so utterly handsome with his hair sticking up in clumps, pillow marks on his cheeks.

 

"Leaving." 

 

Ian's face dropped.

 

"Was supposed to be outta here." Mickey muttered, not meeting the redhead's eyes. He already fucking missed the ride down, dad was already gonna kill him, so he might as well play into Ian's bullshit for a little bit before making his way back home for the ass beating he had coming to him.

 

"Mickey,"

 

He really didn't mean to oversleep. Fuck, he didn't. He hadn't really gotten much sleep lately, maybe that was it. Still, Terry was gonna have a fucking fit. Mickey felt queasy just thinking about it.

 

" _Mickey,_ "

 

Mickey looked up.

 

Ian looked more concerned than anything else now. "You okay?"

 

Mickey nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "It's nothing, just, I had shit to do with the family today. Overslept." 

 

Ian looked at him for a second before nodding back, throwing the sheets off himself. He made his way over to the dresser next to the bed, digging around before pulling out boxer briefs and a pair of slacks. He put those on before pulling a grey polo over his head, gesturing for Mickey to follow him as he left the room. 

 

The redhead grabbed a set of keys from the island in the kitchen before stepping into some sneakers. "What are you doing?" Mickey asked.

 

Ian eyed him, face soft. "Taking you home."

 

 "I can just take the L," Mickey mumbled, hands ringing together in his sweater pockets. Ian waved him off. "L doesn't run for another 30 minutes." 

 

"Fuck, fine then," Mickey grumbled, visibly frustrated. Ian chuckled as they made their way to the elevator. Once inside, Ian pressed the button for the bottom floor, moving back to lean against the railing next to Mickey. They stayed like that for a minute, Ian making eyes at Mickey as the teenager stared straight ahead, awkward tension radiating off the boy in droves. 

 

"Something you wanna say?" Mickey glanced over at Ian, arms crossing over his chest. Ian gave a small smile, straightening up. "Can I get a kiss?" Mickey sputtered for a second before glaring up at the redheaded idiot. 

 

"What?" Ian said, turning to face the brunet. "Just a little kiss, right here." He pointed at his mouth, smiling wider. When Mickey just looked at him, unimpressed, Ian sighed. "Not gonna be able to kiss you goodbye at your front door, might as well get a chance while I can now." 

 

Mickey narrowed his eyes again, then softened up a little, shifting closer to the older man. He bit his lip, hesitating before Ian took the reigns and leaned down, connecting their mouths. He rubbed his thumb in circles behind the boy's jaw, causing him to open up wider and press close 'till they were flush together at the front. Mickey groaned, hands moving up to grip at the front of Ian's douchey shirt. 

 

Mickey cursed as Ian started kissing a wet trail down his throat. He snaked his hand up to fist in the redhead's hair, pulling him up to his mouth again.  

 

Ian was seriously considering hoisting the brunet up on the railing when they hit their floor. "Fuck," Ian breathed, distancing himself from Mickey as the doors opened. The boy's cheeks were tinged pink, breath heavy. Ian laughed. "Damn," He shook his head. "You're so fuckin' sexy." 

 

Mickey blushed harder, licking the corner of his mouth before snorting. "Oh fuck off with that." He shoved the redhead in the side before making his way into the lobby. Ian grinned to himself before following the teen out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ian put the car in park a few blocks away from Mickey's house. He looked over at Mickey, then back out the windshield. "You gonna be okay?" The teen nodded, sniffing as he thumbed the side of his nose. "Yeah. Thanks for the ride."

 

Ian nodded at that, then after a beat slid his hand over to Mickey's thigh. The brunet Inhaled sharply. "Ian,"

 

Ian gripped the inside of the boys leg, fingers brushing over the inseam of his shorts. "Ian.." Mickey sighed. The redhead shushed him, touching more gently. "Be careful, okay? Want you to come back." Mickey breathed out unsteadily, flattening back against the seat as the redhead's hand wandered up higher, getting the attention of his dick.

 

"I don't-"

 

"I don't know whats got you so worked up, but just be careful, alright?"

 

They both watched as Ian moved his hand back down, squeezing the fleshiness there. "Alright, Mickey?" He pressed. Mickey stuttered out a breath, looking over to the redhead. "Yeah," He said. "Yes."

 

Ian nodded, satisfied. He let go of the boy, moving to shift the car into drive. Mickey shoved the door open, not looking back as it slammed shut.

  

 

* * *

 

 

 "Yo!" He called, kicking the door shut as he entered. He looked around, checking out the living room before making his way through to the kitchen. The house was dead silent, which meant his brothers left without him, 'cause if they were there, you'd know.

 

Loud ass motherfuckers.

 

He glanced around at the shit strewn around. Guns, beer bottles, trash. It was business as usual at the Milkovich household, except for the fact that no one was home, apparently. It was kind of putting him on edge. Mickey pulled open the fridge, grabbing a beer and cracking it open. 

 

"Mandy?!" He shouted, then took a swig from the bottle.

 

Silence rang throughout the shitty two-story. He took another sip. 

 

The teen stood there for a second, swallowing down the bottle and throwing it in the sink. Shit, if no one else was there he sure as fuck wasn't gonna wait for 'em to show up. Mickey burped, then strode out toward the front door.

 

"Ay, Mick!"

 

He whipped around, narrowing his eyes at his brother, Iggy. He was coming around from the back, looking more roughed up than usual.

 

"Shit you doin' here, Ig?" 

 

Iggy dug around in his pocket and pulled out a pack of smokes. 

 

"Whaddya mean?" He lit up, throwing the pack down onto the table. Mickey raised his eyebrows and ran a hand through his hair. "The fucking Indiana run, Ig, remember? Delivering to boys down in Naptown?" 

 

The older man nodded slightly, blowing out a plume of smoke. 

 

"Yeah, uh.. didn't go." He said finally, eyes resting back on his younger brother.

 

Mickey grimaced. "The fuck you actin' all vague for? There something goin' on here that I'm missing?" He rolled his eyes then and moved back. "You know what, I don't give a shit," 

 

Iggy put out his cig on the table and flicked it off to the side. "Mick," Mickey made toward the door. He was not in the mood to deal with this asshole's shit this early in the goddamn morning.

 

"Dad wants to see you." 

 

Mickey froze. 

 

"What?" He turned back around, walking back into the kitchen. Iggy gestured behind himself. "He's in the back,"

 

Mickey looked at his brother, really looked at him. He noticed the older man wasn't making eye contact with him. Noticed the downturn of his mouth, like he was.. disgusted or some shit. 

 

Mickey felt like a stone had dropped into the pit of his stomach. 

 

"Ig, what do you mean? He pissed about this morning?" He could salvage this, he knew he could.

 

Iggy shrugged at his brother, apathetic. "Terry fucking knows, Mickey." 

 

Mickey's eyes widened, feeling fear curl up from his gut and into his throat as he tried to stutter out a response, but couldn't get anything out.

 

"Got into it real bad with one of the faggots on Ridgeway that sell his shit," The blonde nodded at Mickey's vacant expression. "Bitch blabbed all about getting it on with one of our guys, called him the pitbull, the baby Milkovich. At first, me an' pops didn't believe it, didn't know what the fuck he was going on about, but," He looked Mickey up and down, sneering. "I can definitely see it now."

 

Mickey didn't know what to fucking say. 

 

He couldn't do anything. His limbs felt like lead, his mind a swirl of emotions he couldn't understand. This could not be happening. It just couldn't. He didn't get it. Mickey had this under control for so long, so fucking long. Fuck, he couldn't breathe. Fuck.

 

He stood there eyes fixated on the ash Iggy left on the table, even when his brother left the room, even when he heard the back door open and slam shut, followed by heavy footsteps.

 

He glanced up, nails digging into the flesh of his palms.

 

"Dad, I can explain,"

 


	4. Chapter 4

Ian stretched back in his seat, taking a small sip from his glass. He scanned the low lit cafe, glancing over to the wrap around bar. There were a few women leaned against the counter, giggling at something the bartender said as he served them another round of whatever they were having. Something pink with lime. Damn, he missed alcohol. It was tricky mixing the shit with his meds, though, so he usually strayed from it. 

 

"Hey." Caleb smiled as he approached the table, eyes crinkling at the corners. He took a seat, flipping open his menu.

 

Ian grinned back. "Took you long enough,"

 

The other man raised an eyebrow, a small smirk forming on his face. "I got caught up at the station with Jim and Daniel."

 

Ian nodded and took another sip of his coke. "Oh yeah? How are they?"

 

Caleb chuckled lightly, closing his menu and leaning forward onto his elbows. "Same old, same old; still being run up the wall by that little rugrat. I think they want to go out with us Saturday night."

 

"Double date?"

 

Caleb grinned and nodded, rolling his eyes. "I don't think we'll be able to get out of this one." Ian groaned at the admisson. "Well, shit."

 

"Shit indeed." He confirmed, collecting his and Ian's menus as the waitress approached.

 

"You two gentlemen have your orders ready?" She asked. "Yes," Caleb said, passing her the paper folders. "I'll take the green flash west coast IPA and a salmon sandwich, no onions." The waitress smiled, turning to Ian.

 

"Just a classic reuben for me, thanks."

 

She tilted her head in acknowledgment, then clasped her hands together. "Great, I'll get your food right out to you in just a sec." She said, then left.

  

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them checking their phones. "So, you never told me what happened with your cousin," Caleb said, locking his phone and setting it to the side.

 

Ian glanced up, finishing the text he was about to send to his sister. She was wanting him to pick up Liam that night. "What?"

 

The other man furrowed his brow. "Mickey. You guys were working on that assignment last week? How'd that turn out?"

 

 _Shit_. 

 

The redhead set his cell down, meeting his boyfriend's eyes warily. "Oh, yeah. Um, we haven't spoken since then, but I'm sure he did alright. Turned it in on time and tried his best." Ian made a vague gesture with his hand.

 

"Sometimes that's all you can really ask for." He finished lamely.

 

Caleb nudged his foot from under the table, causing the younger man to look up at him.

 

"Bet he was glad he had you." He said, grinning.

 

Ian huffed out a laugh, taking a healthy swig from his glass. "He'd better be." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Where's Mickey?" Mandy asked her brother, Colin, who was spread out on the couch. He pulled his head up from the bong he was inhaling from, coughing before placing it gently down on the spotted coffee table in front of him.

 

"Dunno, Mands." 

 

He picked up his point special and took a sip, slouching further into the couch.

 

"He's our brother, how can you not give a shit?" Mandy hissed.

 

He didn't so much as glance at her, choosing instead to blink slowly at the television as it went in and out of static. 

 

She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. "Yeah, see what you get for dinner, asshole, fuckin' nothing." She curled her lip up at him before stomping her way to the front door. The curly headed blonde coughed again, throwing up his hand and giving her the bird. "Watch it, bitch." he called out lazily as the door slammed shut.

 

Mandy and Mickey were twins, Mickey being the youngest of the two by only a couple of minutes. This made them close, closer than the rest of the siblings. She was always worried about Mickey, always bent on protecting him.

 

Their father hated any reminder of their mother and seeing how Mickey looked the most like her, they didn't always have the best relationship, and that's putting it lightly.

 

Mickey had to try harder to prove himself than the others. Had to work his ass off to get the respect of his father, along with everyone else in the neighborhood. He was short and skinny growing up, making him a target for whoever was pissed off at the family that week, since he looked to be the least intimidating out of the Milkovich kids, including Mandy if you could believe it. But he built himself up and became a beneficial member within the family. He was good with numbers, no matter how many algebra classes he flunked, and he was fucking fierce, too.

 

Mandy was so proud of him. She mighta been the only one, but at least it was something.

 

The brunette hadn't seen her twin for awhile, days even, and she was getting a little worried. He usually didn't go this long without letting her know he was okay.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey sat up straight on the bed as he heard the front door slam from the other room. Heavy foot steps carried on until they stopped in front of his door.

 

Ronnie peeked his head in. "Mick, you up?" 

 

Mickey squinted at him, swiping a hand across his face before jerking it away as if he'd been burnt. Fucking Terry. Left Mickey's face a fucking mess. Sores and bruises; cuts littered everywhere. 

 

Punch after punch, pops sure did leave a fucking mark.

 

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' up." He responded, irritated. Ronnie put a hand up in surrender, face twisted in annoyance. "Sorry, damn, what're you mensing or some shit?"

 

Mickey grimaced at that.

 

"How the fuck am I supposed to know, you've been closed up in here all night." The older man bitched, opening the door a little wider and taking a step inside. "Was just asking if you wanted in on the shit Samuel brought. Coke, pills, ya know, maybe help you forget about that shitshow?" He gestured to Mickey's face.

 

The teen perked up noticeably. "Oh, fuck yes,"

 

Ronnie laughed.

 

"Get the fuck up then,"

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Brian's been bugging about the baby."

 

Mandy shrugged a shoulder at her friend. "What did you expect? Kid just graduated valedictorian, you think he's lookin to have a kid?"

 

Dee rolled her eyes. "Shoulda thought about that before he put one in me." 

 

They shuffled to the other side of the sidewalk as a group of 12 year olds passed, talking loudly. "But still, I'm not getting rid of it." The girl continued.

 

Mandy squinted at the house they were coming up on. "How come?"

 

 "Why would I? And unless you've got 600 bucks laying around, don't tempt me."

 

When they reached it, they hopped up the stoop in unison and knocked on the screen door.

 

The door was opened by a young blonde girl in short shorts and a small tee. Mandy shared a smile with her as she glanced over. "You brought the nail polish?" The blonde, Karen, asked. Mandy reached in the pocket of her bag, pulling out a bottle of pink and black. 

 

Karen smiled wider. "Cool," she opened the door and let them in. Mandy made her way to the front room and dropped down on the large couch, pulling her bag onto her lap and rifling through it. "You guys wanna smoke now or later?" She called to the other girls who had walked into the kitchen. Dee hopped into the recliner nearest the t.v, breaking into a bag of Cheetos. "Definitely now." 

 

Karen took to Mandy's flank, smiling when Mandy leaned against her shoulder. "Now it is then." She giggled and took the papers and baggie from Mandy's hands. 

 

An hour and a half later, they were still piled in the living room, smoking the place out. Dee was painting her nails a nice shade of olive green as mandy reached over and passed her the joint. She pinched it between her index and forefinger and took a hit. "This is such a classy color." She remarked as she passed it back, admiring her nails. "So chic." 

 

Karen took a long hit, coughing a little when she breathed out. "Yeah," she wheezed. "Ghetto chic." Dee looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh my god, you are totally right!" She laughed. 

 

Mandy shifted against Karen when the blonde put an arm around her shoulder. "I'm a genius. Don't you think I'm a genius, mands?" She drawled. Mandy rolled her eyes. "When one of you finds my brother, I'll call you a genius all you want, but till then," she waved a hand at both the girls. 

 

Dee closed the nail polish bottle and blew on her wet nails. "Still haven't seen him yet?" 

 

Mandy let out a heavy sigh, sliding down the couch and onto her back. "No. He's been gone for weeks." Karen looked down at the brunette in pity. "You miss him, don't you?" 

 

Mandy glared at the popcorn ceiling. "Fuck off."

 

"He's probably okay. At Dante's or maybe paul's place" Dee said, waving her hands around. "I know he's okay," Mandy conceded. "But still."

 

Karen patted the girl's knee, and put the joint out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ian was laying in bed in just sweats, blowing smoke at the ceiling. It was going on 10 o' clock and he was on his second pack of smokes.

 

He had a slight headache and was kind of on the verge of punching a hole through his wall. Mickey hadn't contacted him once. It had been maybe a month and Ian was losing his mind. He'd called numerous times, left dozens of texts and still radio silence. He didn't know what he had done. In fact, he knew he hadn't done shit. 

 

He reached up, scratching a hand through his hair and took another puff from his cigg. 

 

He was really missing that kid, too.

 

Missed his ass, that is. And his lips. His eyes. The way his back tensed up when Ian could get him spread out on his stomach. He'd rub him down, get him to loosen up, then would slide into home plate. Drive the brunet up the fucking wall.

 

Jesus Christ.

 

He let out a harsh breath and put out his cigarette, sitting up in bed. The redhead was tired of feeling frustrated and ignored. He was gonna fucking do something about this, not stew in it. fuck that.

 

He made his way over to his dresser and started pulling out clothes. He knew what he was planning on doing was risky as hell, but didn't give a fuck. Not in that moment. He wasn't gonna waste anymore time thinking about this shit till he got some answers.

 

After shoving on some sneakers, he grabbed some change and decided to hit the streets. He was gonna find Mickey himself. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dee had passed out in Karen's bedroom awhile ago and Mandy and Karen were busy making out on the couch. Karen had managed to get a few tears out of the younger girl from the whole missing brother thing and suddenly they ended up with their tongues in each other's mouths. 

 

 Mandy did this from time to time with her, no strings attached, so there wasn't any wigging out.

 

"Fuck, wait," Karen sighed as she pulled back, shoving sweaty bangs out of her face. "Lay on your back." 

 

Mandy flopped down, sliding down her skirt. The blonde peeled off her shirt, leaning down to connect their mouths again. Mandy pulled her tank up over her tits so they'd have full contact. It just felt awesome. The blonde squeezed her ass and used her free hand to pull her shorts down. The sweat made them stick, but Mandy used her foot to shove them the rest of the way down. 

 

"Come on," 

 

"Wait, fuck," 

 

"Ugh, shit."

 

Karen was trying to pull Mandy's tank from her head. "Jesus, can't get this shit around that bowling ball you call a fuckin head."

 

Mandy grumbled, struggling with the top. "It's a halter!"

 

When it finally came loose, both girls giggled and got down to business. Arms wound tight around each other, stomachs sliding and sticking together.

 

She moved her leg out the way, up and over the blondes hip, and gasped. "Uh, oh fuck," she whimpered, pushing up and in the process getting the worst weggie ever.

 

Karen laughed. 

 

Mandy wasn't thinking about her brother at all.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was almost 12 and Ian was wondering around the Southside alone. He took the El over and found where he dropped Mickey off last. He didn't really have a plan, just figured if kept walking he'd eventually run into him or something. He briefly debated whether or not to tail it over to N Wallace, where is old house was, see if it was still there, but decided against it. Too dangerous. He didn't want to go down that rabbit hole when he was already in one. 

 

It was cooler out, not a lot going on. He saw some kids out playing soccer in the street a few blocks back, but nothing that really caught his attention. He was turning a corner when he ran into someone.

 

"Hey, watch it," 

 

Ian put his hands up. "Shit, man, sorry. I didn't-" he paused.

 

The girl he ran into was a few years younger than him, brown hair, with black smudged around her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, asshole." She retorted, rolling her eyes. She made to move around Ian when he stopped her. 

 

"Aren't you a milkovich?" He asked. He remembered Debbie or Carl mentioning her back when they live in the area. 

 

The girl looked slightly nervous but answered briskly. "Yeah, fucks it to you?" He put his hand up again. "Nothing, chill out, just- I know your brother." 

 

She crossed her arms. "Okay? If Iggs sold you some bad shit that's not my problem. You can't just-" 

 

"No," he stopped her.

 

"I wanna know where your brother Mickey is." 

 

She stiffened, face hard. "You tell me." 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Ian blinked, scratching behind his ear. "Ok, look, I'm just worried about him, alright?"

 

Mandy cocked her head, intrigued. "And who are you?" The redhead cursed under his breath before giving her his name. "Ian."

 

Mandy nodded, still staring at him. "Okay," he continued. "We're friends." 

 

Mandy scoffed. "Mickey doesn't have friends that look like you." She said. He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, well. We were. Are."

 

He glanced over to where a car had just parked across the street.

 

"Alright,"

 

Ian raised his brows. "Alright?" He repeated.

 

She nodded and hesitated before speaking again. "I haven't seen him in awhile. Few weeks maybe."  There was a pause before the redhead spoke up. "I haven't seen him around either. I was just worried and knew he was having some issues before he-" 

 

The brunette stopped him mid sentence. "Hold on, how do you two know each other?" She asked, looking skeptical.

 

Ian sighed, breaking eye contact. "Friend of a friend. We got to talking. And the earth goes 'round." He finished sarcastically. She rolled her eyes, looking even more annoyed. "Yeah, I doubt that." She patted his shoulder and continued walking around him. He stood there for a sec before jogging over to catch up with the brunette. 

 

"Seriously, I'm worried." 

 

"I fucking am, too. Anything else?"  She snapped.

 

They stood glaring at each other, silent, before Ian softened up, shaking his head. "No, nothing." He said, before turning around.

 

She watched him turn the corner and leave.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey was in the process of shoving clothes into a few bags. He figured it had been long enough and he was prepared to show his face. 

 

"Hey, man." Ronnie said from the doorway. 

 

Mickey glanced over his shoulder before attempting to fold a few of the shirts. "Hey."

 

Ronnie stepped up beside the brunet, eyeing the mess on the bed. " You finally leaving, bum?" 

 

Mickey smiled wryly. "Just tired of your dumbass," he check the man in the shoulder. "Gotta leave before it spreads."

 

Ronnie smiled before  settling on the bed, pulling a magazine out from under himself. "Spread what?" 

 

"Dumbass, dumbass!" Mickey exclaimed.

 

The older man laughed, flipping through the Ammo mag. 

 

Mickey folded a few more shirts and a couple pants before Ronnie threw the magazine to the side. 

 

"You wanna get on me yet?" 

 

Mickey scowled. "Fuck, just give me a sec, ok?"

 

After Mickey had ran and spilled the beans of what happened, Ronnie had been oddly supportive. Shoulda known the bastard still had some cards up his sleeve. Since Mickey had no cash or drugs to barter with, Ronnie came up with something. he could stay for however long he needed if he gave free blowies while living there without a dime. Mickey of course refused outright at first, but he was feeling exposed and vulnerable and just wanted somewhere to lay his head. And Ronnie wasn't a bad looking guy, so he figured the deal wouldn't be without a few benefits.

 

He didn't think much of it concerning Ronnie. Sucking dick is sucking dick, no matter who's doing the sucking.

 

After putting away some underwear, he stepped in front of where the older man was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head. "Take off your pants." Mickey sighed.

 

Ronnie studied him for a second. "How bout we do something different." Mickey raised an eyebrow.

 

"Old times sake," he added. 

 

Mickey felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and crossed his arms. "Depends on what it is." Ronnie licked his lips, nodding.

 

"Wanna kiss you."

 

Mickey cracked a surprised look. "Uh, sounds kind of gay, huh?"

 

Ronnie grinned. "You are gay, though. Right?"

 

Mickey laughed nervously. "Are you?" 

 

Ronnie rolled his eyes. "Cmon man, you know I'm not." He said. "Cmon, get on top of me." He continued when mickey didn't move, waving a hand at the boy. 

 

Mickey hesitated, trying to read the guys expression, but not finding much to go off of.

 

He folded and climbed on top of the man, swinging a leg on either side of his torso. Ronnie pulled the brunet down flat on top of his chest, causing him to suck in a harsh breath and look at the older man inquisitively. 

 

Ronnie smiled and thumbed his cheek, other hand gripped around Mickey's waist. The brunet leaned down onto his elbow and planted one on the guy. Ronnie didn't really react at first, just began rubbing circles at the bottom of the boys spine.

 

Mickey sighed into the older mans mouth, settling down more firmly on top of him.

 

Ronnie pulled back. "Open your mouth." 

 

Mickey did as told, kissing with tongue, until Ronnie muttered again. "Wider."

 

At this point, mickey was kind of getting into it. He stretched his mouth as far as he could and let the guy do what he wanted.

 

He hadn't gotten laid in weeks, he reasoned. Give him a break.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ian didn't go back to the El. He circled the block and followed a safe distance behind Mickey's sister. He needed to figure out where he lived. 

 

It was about 15 minutes later when she stopped at a brick red house on the corner. Ian ducked behind a wall, peering over to see her hopping up the steps and inside. He let out a breath and moved from his spot on the wall, examining the house as he got closer. It was very run down looking, maybe even more than his old house. There were beer bottles littering the yard, stacked up on the porch. Cigarettes thrown on every surface. Random scraps of metal. The place was a shit hole. 

 

He took in his surroundings again, looked at the house number, and huddled down to make the trek back home. At least now if he needed to find the kid, he'd know where to look first.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mandy was busy cooking noodles on the stove when her brothers piled into the house, one after the other. Colin and Iggy popped a squat down in front of the t.v, she heard Tony stomp into his room, probably to pass out, and Jamie came in and sat down at the kitchen table. He pulled out pack of Marlboros, shaking the box

 

"What's with you guys?" She asked. 

 

Jamie lit up, eyeing the pot she was stirring. "What you making?" 

 

"Ramen with some veggies thrown in." 

 

He nodded and took a long puff off his cigg. 

 

"You didn't answer me." She focused her attention on the soup.

 

She could hear him scrape the chair back as he got up and glanced over to him. He was studying her with squinted eyes, mouth drawn tight. "You know where Mick is?"

 

She shook her head.

 

"You sure?" He prodded. 

 

"Uh, yeah?" She raised a brow, then cracked a smile. "Why? He on the shitlist this week or something for skipping out?" 

 

Jamie took a another drag, flicking some ash on the floor. "Somethin' like that." He said, and walked out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realized this will be a little out of character in some ways, just heads up. 
> 
> Any tips, advice, suggestions, lmk. Pm me or something. I'd love to know what you guys are thinking.


	7. Chapter 7

Mandy was starting to get a bad feeling about whatever it was that was going on with Mickey. Like, maybe he was really in trouble. 

 

She knew he would have called if he had been arrested. He always called.  

 

She was sitting on the sofa, chewing on her nails and thinking. It was midday, so the boys were either sleeping or out with Dad. They seemed to go everywhere with each other these days, like a pack of dogs.

 

Without Mandy, of course. 

 

She was always excluded from their shit. It was irritating, but she was mostly relieved. Now, though. She was worried. She didn't know if it was connected to Mickey, but she had a feeling it was. 

 

She sat up, glancing toward Mickey's closed bedroom door, debating in her head. 

 

"Anyone home?" She called, just for the hell of it, to make sure no one was around. After a beat of silence, she hopped up and tailed it to her twins room, closing the door quietly behind her.

 

She didn't know what she was looking for, but there had to be some sort of clue somewhere. Something to help her. She started with the desk. There was a bunch of gross, random shit piled there. Nothing that looked to be of any help. She snooped all around; over by the bookcase, between the cushions on the futon, and even kicked around the pile of dirty clothes he had on the floor.

 

She was about 10 minutes into her endeavor when she started to feel stupid. The brunette stopped and sighed, moving to sit on the bed. She looked around, at all the dumb posters on the walls, the trash, the clothes. All of it screaming Mickey. 

 

Mandy never really got emotional, but for once, she felt like this was an exception. She flopped down, laying her head on the unused pillow, and allowed her eyes to well up. Rolling over, she hugged his blankets close to her chest.

 

She laid there, wallowing, then after a minute rolled back over, huffing at the ceiling and rubbing her eyes. Enough of all this crying bullshit. It was so cramping her style.

 

she moved to sit up when something hard nudged against the back of her head. The brunette paused, then started patting blindly at the crack between the wall and the mattress by her head until she felt the hard object again.

 

It was a cell phone. Mandy held it between her hands, glancing toward the door again. 

 

She didn't know Mickey had a phone.

 

She slipped it in her pocket before gathering the blankets and putting them back the way she found them, along with everything else. She leaned her ear against the wooden door. No sound. The brunette then cracked it open and peeked through. Again, nothing. 

 

She made her way to her room, observing what she had found. It was small, grey, and flipped open. She tried to turn it on, but the screen stayed dark. After fucking with it for awhile, she threw it to the side in frustration. Fucking dead battery.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"You wanna come out with us tonight?" Ronnie asked.

 

Mickey mulled it over before shaking his head. "I'm good, man"

 

"You sure?" Asked another voice. It was Danny. He was sat on the couch in the room across from them, watching t.v. 

 

Mickey leaned back in his chair. "Nah, man. Think I'm gonna hang out here."

 

Mickey had meant to be home by now, had thought the shit would just blow over, like always, but word was that his brothers were out looking for him. He knew his Dad threw out the line, so he was laying low. Mickey may have been a little over cautious, but he knew his Dad, knew he was out for blood on this one.

 

It wasn't public knowledge exactly why Mickey was being ousted, but it was made pretty clear by Terry's apparent drunken rants at the Alibi that he wouldn't be missing his youngest son anytime soon.

 

He just wished he had had a chance to talk to Mandy before he ditched. He knew she was worried. She was always worried about him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ian was sat at his desk, organizing his lesson plans for the following day. The teacher he was filing in for knew him well enough to know he actually wanted to teach and sent some slides and PowerPoints to build his lesson on.

 

Ian knew it wasn't required of him to do that, but he wasn't like those subs that let the kids have a free period or just put on a movie. He wanted the students to get something out of it, have a good time with him. He wanted to get them thinking.

 

Subbing wasn't his full-time gig, thankfully. It was totally unpredictable. Driving back and forth between two districts and constantly reintroducing himself to the different students and staff was wearing him down. He was actually looking into picking up a TA position, but hadn't found an opening yet.

 

He toughed through it, though.The redhead wanted to get his name out there, and figured the experience was good, too. In his mind, it was all worth it. He had found that teaching kids, molding young minds, all that shit excited him.

 

He hadn't felt this passionate and driven since his stint in the army.

 

After stapling his papers together, he leaned back in his chair, yawning loudly. It was going on 10 pm and he knew if he wanted to get an early start, he needed to start getting ready for bed.

 

The redhead was in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head, when we heard his phone ring. He grabbed his cell from the nightstand, sitting down heavily onto the bed.

 

"Hello?" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mickey was walking down the street, debating whether or not to head to the party Ronnie had invited him to on 5th Street. He was feeling restless sitting in that fucking house. Of course he knew going out was fucking stupid and not worth the risk, but the party was at this chick named Dee's place and he was pretty sure his sister hung around her.

 

Just the thought of maybe running into her cheered him up. He just wanted to see his fucking sister, man.

 

It was dark out, street lit up by the yellow light of the street lamps. The air was cool, which he was greatful for, considering how hot it had been lately.

 

As he crossed an intersection, the brunet noticed more people milling around and knew he was coming up on the house. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Shit," She cursed as the phone slipped from her hands and onto the floor. She snatched it up and sat down cross legged on her bed.  

 

Mandy found the charger so the battery was now full enough to be able to turn on. She impatiently waited for the cell to start up, when the phone started vibrating as soon as the home screen popped up. 

 

There were a few texts and missed phone calls, names Mandy recognized and also random numbers, but there were a few from a contact that immediantly rang some bells. 

 

There was a missed call yesterday at 9:00 pm from an Ian. 

 

Mandy snooped more and found that Mickey and Ian had been talking quite a lot. She felt confused, for one. She wouldn't know where Mickey would meet a guy like that, so conspicuous and utterly handsome, or why they would be talking at all. 

 

Maybe Ian was just some college kid looking for a fix in the ghetto and knew Mick somehow, or maybe he was dealing too, but as Mandy read through the texts, she was doubting their relationship was as innocent.

 

"Oh Mickey," the brunette whispered, finally understanding the weirdness of everything that was happening, why her twin had basically abandoned her, and also complete empathy for him, too. God, he never told her. She never would have guessed otherwise. That fact unnerved her a bit. They knew everything about each other, at least they were supposed to.

 

She sighed, leaning her head against the edge of her mattress and closed her eyes. 

 

"Fuck it," she muttered, scrolling through the call history again. She was deep in the shit now, no going back. She pulled up Ian's contact and hit call. 

 

After a few rings she drummed her fingers against her forearm, anticipation swelling up like a balloon. Then, after a beat, the call was picked up. 

 

"Hello?" Came a voice which she instantly recognized as the guy on the street the other night, confirming what she already knew. 

 

She held her breath, not sure how to play it. 

 

"Mick? Is that you? Mickey?" 

 

Mandy held her breath, then, "Are you fucking my brother?"

 


End file.
